


Piece Of Your Action

by Kabella



Series: First Days [5]
Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Birthday, Drugs, Fan Club, Legal, Live Wire - Freeform, Love Van, M/M, Mick is a buzzkill, Nikki does have a soft side, Starwood, Tommy hates chores, cake and matches, suburban life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25413757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabella/pseuds/Kabella
Summary: This trio is strong. They just need their singer. Where o where might they find him?Oh, and hey, someone is finally legal. Wonder what that might lead too.
Relationships: Tommy Lee/Nikki Sixx
Series: First Days [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819792
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	Piece Of Your Action

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops. I lied. This was supposed to be the last chapter of this early days mini-series, BUT I wrote too much damn dialogue and narrative. If I wrote til the end, this chapter would be toooooo long. So, there will be one more. Besides, I changed my idea for the ending. Ending on a different scene.
> 
> Speaking of ending, my very first idea for an ending, was pretty the way this chapter ends. Tell me how mad you all woulda been?

Nikki wakes up. He shifts around, and nestles back into a cozy position. Suddenly his eyes pop open, alert. He realizes that he’s warm under his bed comforter. He put it on Tommy last night, and now it’s on him. Is he still here? What time is it? He focuses his eyes on his clock radio. It’s 11:30. Fuck. He didn’t intend to sleep this late.

Nikki hurries out of bed, eager to see if Tommy is still here. He can see immediately that the couch is empty, and he spies the bright, white sheet of note paper on the table. He reads the note. Although he’s disappointed that Tommy left already, it puts a smile on his face. _He likes his hair._ _Twins_. Nikki puts the note down and picks up the drum sticks, clapping them together. They feel foreign in his hands. He attempts to twirl one, and it clatters down onto the floor, clipping the table and chair, before even a single rotation could be made. Drumming takes a hell of a lot of coordination; with tricks, like spinning the sticks, even more. He decides this instrument suits Tommy’s personality. Wild and energetic. Nikki is going to stick to the rock, steady bass. It’s a pulse. It’s a heartbeat. Nikki gives the music life. Mick wakes it up. Tommy keeps it up. Now they just need to find someone to tell its story to the crowd. 

Nikki sighs and puts the drumsticks down. He doesn’t have much on his agenda today until the show tonight. Maybe check the latest edition of the Recycler for singers. Maybe try to hone in on some of his songs. Perhaps another attempt at recording, despite Mick’s protest that the recordings suck. They may very well suck, but eventually it helped bring the song to fruition. It’s hard, sometimes, to get what’s in your head musically, into everyone else’s head. 

Nikki decides that he should also get to the store and buy a cake for Tommy. Plus straighten up his room. Laundry might be a good idea. He’s got 3 piles of clothes. Clean, worn but still wearable, worn and past its prime. Now he believes that he just added too much to his to-do list. He thinks he should start with the clothes. His room could use some airing out. He’s not sure what’s going to happen with Tommy tomorrow, when he turns 18. He definitely intends on kissing him, or at least trying. He stops and wonders for a minute whether Tommy is really just into him, or if he’s just eager to be in a band with the illustrious Nikki Sixx. He’s fairly confident that this motherfucker is into him. He’ll give it a 95% guarantee rate.

Anyway, aside from a kiss, he’s not sure whether to go further. It might be too soon. BUT, just in case, he should try to make his bedroom a more pleasant place to be. It just occurred to him that Tommy has already seen it. It’s the only way the blanket could have made it back on his bed, unless Nikki was sleepwalking and stole it back. Nah, Tommy thanked him for it in the note. He was in his filthy room. Maybe he’ll forget how bad it was if he spruces it up enough by tomorrow. Nikki envisions Tommy’s room at home. Posters on the wall, a chair and desk, maybe two dressers and a closet, the clothes neatly put away, a cool lamp, some shit around from his childhood, like a trophy or a model airplane that he built or something like that, a few beer bottles chucked underneath his bed. The old accordion sitting in the corner, dusty, begging to be played again someday, and old baseball sitting alongside it. That’s how he envisions life in the suburbs.

Nikki didn’t grow up with many possessions. He moved too much. Things got lost in the shuffle, or were broken either by his mother, one of her boyfriends, or himself during a fit of rage. What he valued most was music and freedom. Freedom to roam and explore. Freedom to think under the stars or drop a fishing line into the lake. Freedom to take care of his business as he saw fit and run far away and hide when he felt his freedom being threatened. He thinks this lifestyle helped him to run towards his dreams faster than the average person who gets caught up in material things and rules of society.

Despite the vast differences from Tommy, he feels an electrifying connection with the kid. Somehow they ended up on the same plane. Even Mick, that fucking asshole, there’s something meant to be about this trio. It wasn't a coincidence that he and Mick met before. It makes Nikki actually look forward to tonight’s show, to tell his bandmates that he’s moving on, and just get it over with; shaking the dust off of his boots. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate their camaraderie, workmanship, and friendships, but he knows he’s just meant to do something else. London was just a stepping stone.

Nikki gathers up a sack of laundry and heads out the door with a fresh line up his nose, a pocket full of quarters, a few bucks for a cake, and a flask. Time to start tackling the day.

\----------------

Tommy returned home in the morning to his parents having a casual breakfast at the table.

“Where were you, son?” his dad asks.

“Fell asleep at my friend’s house.”

“Partying too hard?”

“I wasn’t partying. I’m actually getting involved with another band. I was jamming with them.”

“Oh come on, Tom. Is this your thing now, jumping from band to band? When are you going to start taking life seriously?”

“I have been, and that’s why I’m jumping ship with my old band. We don’t have the same vision for the future.”

“I’m sure because they probably realize that there is no future in this business and with that god awful sound that you make.”

“It may not be your taste, but a lot of people like the way I sound.”

“Come on, honey. Stop. You even helped him cultivate his talent by setting him up with drums and a place to play,” Tommy’s mom says, softly.

“Yeah, as a hobby. This is not a proper career.”

“Are we done?” Tommy asks.

“Give your mother a kiss good morning, and start making plans to re-mulch the garden today.”

Tommy leans down, and places a kiss on his mom’s cheek. He’s not happy about the task before him, but he bites his tongue.

Tommy’s mom takes hold of a tress of his hair, “Tom?”

“You like it?” he smiles, thinking about having Nikki dying his hair last night.

“You look like you’re getting involved in some satanic cult,” his dad snaps.

“I know. Isn’t it great,” Tommy walks away, laughing to himself, as he hears his parents whispering their concerns to each other.

Tommy gets up to his room, and admires his hair in the mirror. It’s sooo black. Just like Nikki’s and Mick’s. Glossy too. He guesses that why Nikki insisted that he use the included condition. He’s not going to bother with it right now, as he’s gonna be sweating in a pile of mulch for the next few hours, but he can’t wait until later when he can style it. 

On his way home, he picked up today’s local paper to see if he can find any ads or a listing about when that band Rockandi is playing next. Tommy kicks back on his bed and starts flipping through the paper. After a few minutes, he finds a promo for The Starwood, advertising their upcoming line-up. Funny enough, that’s where Suite 19 is playing tonight. It still gives him a little tickle everytime he sees the band’s name in print. AND…. Rockandi is playing this tomorrow. Fuck, tomorrow…. his birthday. First practice with Mick, and now a possible show to scout out. Tommy’s unsure if that leaves any time for him to celebrate his birthday. He realizes that perhaps he’s dreaming something up in his head that’s at a much larger scale than what’s actually going to happen. Maybe Mick and Nikki will just sing happy birthday and then they’ll all eat cake, and go back to playing music. Maybe Nikki doesn’t mean anything with his sexual innuendos. Tommy sighs, and tosses the paper aside. He’s gonna get this fucking mulch job done before the heat of the day hits hard and fries him. Then he’ll call to see if Nikki is up, and tell him about the show at The Starwood.

\-------------------------

Almost 3 hours later, and Tommy is done with the yard project. He’s a sweaty mess. He heads inside, and knows that a shower is next on his agenda. His dad left for work a while ago. As he passes by his mother, she says that dad told her to remind him that rent is due tomorrow. Of course…. Even on his birthday he has to pay up. He wonders if his family is planning anything for him, or if they got him something. He’d be happy if he could just have a break from fucking chores for a day. And now that he thinks about it, he actually hopes that they’re not planning anything for him. He has his own plans. He decides to backtrack to his mother and inquire.

“Hey mom?”

“Yes?”

“Um, are you planning anything for my birthday tomorrow? I kind of have some things going on.”

“Well, I thought that it would be nice to celebrate with a birthday cake. Our baby is becoming a man tomorrow,” she beams.

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Mom, I’ve been living the life of an adult for the past 6 months or so. Working my job, working around the house for rent, paying rent, and paying for my own things, aside from meals here.”

“That doesn’t make you a man. Still my little boy.”

“Well, if I was still your boy, I shouldn’t be paying for my own things. The majority of my 17 year old friends still have their parents buy them stuff, and not pay rent.”

“Well, when you decided to drop out of school and run away for a month, that changed things.”

“Point taken. Just saying, my 18th birthday is nothing special. I’m already making a way for myself.”

“It’s special to us. Won’t you have cake with us?”

“OK, mom. How about dinner at 6, immediately followed by cake. I have somewhere to be by 9, preferably before then. Like I need to leave around 7:30 or not much after.”

“We’ll make it work. I’ll make your favorite dinner.”

“Thanks mom,” Tommy says, walking away. He’s kind of touched that his family actually wants him around, but it’s one more thing to cram into his day. Whatever, he’s gotta get in the shower. That will clear his head.

Tommy gets into the shower. Take a long one. When he gets out, he flops down on his bed. That sun outside knocked him flat. Before he realizes, he’s down for a nap.

\---------------------------

Tommy comes to around 3. Shit, he didn’t plan for a nap today. He meant to call Nikki a few hours ago. He gets up, and goes out to the hallway phone to dial Nikki.

Nikki had just gotten home about 20 minutes earlier. He’s too lazy to put his clean laundry away upon returning, and instead sprawls out on the couch with his notebook. The phone rings, just as he was bringing a good melody to life in his head. Fuck. He gets up.

“Hello,” Nikki answers.

“Hey, Sixx,” Tommy replies.

“I’m glad it’s you. I was about ready to lose my shit if it was someone else.”

“What?” Tommy questions.

“Nothing, I was writing music in my head, and the phone distracted me. I think I lost the stroke of genius that was afoot.”

“Oh shit. I didn’t know. I--”

“It’s cool. I’d rather talk to you. I got my nose in that damn notebook too often.”

Tommy relaxes, fearing for a moment that Nikki was pissed at him for calling. “Uh, well, I was calling to let you know that Rockandi is playing tomorrow night at The Starwood at 9.”

“That’s good. We can check that shit out sooner than later. Wanna go?”

“Uh, yeah. I just…. Well, I got a lot of things happening tomorrow.”

“Oh, well, hey, if you’re busy, that’s OK. I know it’s your birthday, and all.”

“No, no. I’m not busy. Well, I mean, I am busy, but I can still go,” Tommy says, slapping himself in the forehead. He knows he’s rambling again.

“OK. Great. What about practice?”

“Yeah. So, I was thinking that we can have practice in the afternoon. Then I gotta go home for a birthday dinner at 6. Then I’ll come back out for the show. I already told my mom that I have plans tomorrow night.”

“Alright,” Nikki says smiling, sensing Tommy’s anxiety on the other end of the phone. “Do you want to meet there?”

“No! I mean no. I figured that I can pick you up. Mick too, if he’s still going to be at your apartment,” Tommy stutters out. He definitely wants an excuse to be back at Nikki’s apartment after the show, which is why they can’t meet there.

Nikki is biting his tongue to not laugh. He knows exactly what Tommy is driving it at. He wonders if he should keep the act up or allay his worries, and let him know that he’s welcomed back at the apartment afterwards. “Sounds good. I’ll ask Mick what he wants. After the show, we can continue celebrating your birthday here.” Nikki gives in, and puts the boy at ease.

“Great! Um, I think we’ll have a good day,” Tommy says, not able to stop smiling.

“Yeah. Why don’t you come by around 1 for practice.”

“OK. Sounds good. Hey, are you ready for tonight?”

“Yeah, it’s good. I’m feeling a bunch of emotions. I mean it is my last show with a band that I helped start, and grew from the bottom. Last time I’ll be playing those songs in front of a crowd. A few of them were my songs, but I’m not going to take them with me. They’re not what I’m wanting in our new band. We need a fucking name, by the way.”

“Trouble,” Tommy snickers.

“That name is already taken,” Nikki laughs. “But it probably describes us.”

“Is it? Never heard of them.”

“They’re actually a metal band. I have an uncle in the record business. He sends me demo tapes and shit.”

“Cool man! Will your uncle give us a record deal?”

“I doubt it. I kind of wore out my welcome with him, and I don’t think he likes my music that much; otherwise I probably would have a record deal going for London by now.”

“Bummer,” Tommy frowns.

“Nah. We’re not going to need his help. I’m on an agenda to prove ourselves. We’re going to make this happen, and everyone who’s ever told us “no” is going to be regretting that word for the rest of their lives.”

“You’re a champ at selling the dream, Nikki. You’re exactly what we need to do this. I’m really starting to get it now.”

“I knew you would. I can tell. Mick too. We just need our fucking singer, and maybe another guitarist. Then we’re off.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, daydreaming again.

“Alright, man. Uh, have a good show tonight. See you tomorrow,” Nikki says.

“You too. See you then,” Tommy says, hanging up. He can’t wipe the smiles off of his face.

\------------------------

It’s October 3rd, 1980; Tommy’s 18th birthday.

Tommy wakes up excited. Very excited. He has so much stuff to look forward to today. His show went well last night. Tommy’s bandmates were given him odd looks the whole time, unsure what to think about his hair. It was, well, harsh… maybe. Tommy thought it looked fucking cool, once he got to styling it. Definitely a twin of Nikki Sixx, although, he’ll never get his hair stand tall like Nikki’s, it’s still close enough.

Tommy gets dressed and hopes that he doesn’t have to do any fucking chores around the house today. He cautiously makes his way downstairs to get a pulse on the situation. Dad’s already at work. His sister is yapping like a banshee on the phone with one of her friends.

“Morning, mom,” Tommy says, kissing his mom on the cheek.

“Morning, sweetheart. Happy birthday, my son.”

Tommy smiles. “Thanks mom. Um, need anything today? I was kind of hoping--”

“No. Dad and I talked. Enjoy your day,” his mom smiles. “Athena! Off the phone! There’s dishes in the sink to be washed!”

Tommy walks off, feeling smug that his sister doesn’t get out of shit today, as he hears her groaning about it from the living room.”

It’s late morning. Tommy decides to shower and pamper himself a little. He wants to look good, and well, smell good for once.

\---------------

Nikki didn’t sleep too well last night. Things actually got emotional after the show; something he didn’t expect. His friends took the news of his departure pretty hard. And he found that actually telling them that he was leaving was more difficult to do than he expected. He wound up shedding a few tears. These guys have been through quite a bit together. They seemed to understand, but Nikki is positive that they’re pretty upset, and worried about the band. His friends said that they’re staying on with London, and that they think that they may have found their next singer; although they weren’t expecting to have to find a new bassist too. 

Once Nikki got home, he decompressed in the shower. It felt good to think about what’s ahead, but a few more tears crept out behind the shower curtain. He let them come, figuring it was best not to suppress the feelings of departure from something he built up. He doesn’t want any baggage and unresolved emotions getting in the way of what lies ahead.

Another thing that disrupted his sleep, was his boy Tommy. Sleep was disrupted in a good way, thinking about moving forward with him and Mick, plus a little birthday celebration, acknowledging his full-fledged adulthood. He’s still unsure what he wants. Well, OK, he knows what he wants, but he’s not sure what is actually smart. It’s just going to have to be one of those things that will play out before him. 

Nikki has never kissed another guy. It makes him a little nervous. If he’s nervous about that, he’s definitely going to be more nervous about going further. He has no idea what Tommy’s bedroom behavior is like. Nikki generally takes lead in the bedroom with the ladies, even if he has an aggressive one on the line. But, how will personalities hold up with two guys, who are both probably used to being in control. Nikki doesn’t like the thought of being shown up by this kid. He’ll have to keep the upper hand. Maybe.

The only thing that’s giving him some peace tonight is that his room is in much better shape. He finally got around to cleaning it up and putting his clothes away after his phone call with Tommy yesterday. It’s actually very calming to be in a clean room. He eventually drifted off to sleep at some point. A few times, as he also tossed and turned. It’s late morning now, and the guys are going to be here in a bit over an hour. Time to make himself look presentable, and then spend the rest of the time with a plan of what to work on today.

\-------------

It’s 12:40. Tommy is outside Nikki’s apartment holding some of his drum parts. He purposely arrived early, hoping to beat Mick there, intending to use the excuse of putting his drum kit together as the reason for coming early. He doesn’t see the guitarist’s little beater parked anywhere yet, so he races up to the door, wanting to catch a few minutes alone with Nikki. He knocks, and hears Nikki yell, “Come in!”

Tommy steps in, and sees Nikki on the couch.

“Eager beaver, aren’t you?” Nikki says.

“No, I got the drums to assemble, so I left a little early.”

“Your hair looks fucking rad, man! I like it, and I think you’re right. Twins. We might throw some people off, getting us mixed up.”

“Yeah, I thought the same thing,” Tommy smiles, putting the drum pieces down, as he joins Nikki on the couch.

“Don’t you want to get the drums?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s just that it’s hot out. Just sitting by the fan for a few.”

“OK….. so, 18… finally,” Nikki says smirking.

“Yeah. Legal now. Don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“Probably bad, Trouble.”

Tommy is biting his lip to stifle a wide grin. Nikki tantalizing him with his words.

“Um, I guess Mick will be here soon. Uh, what are we gonna work on?” Tommy says, a nervous hitch in his voice.

“I thought that we could run though the two songs that we already played to make sure we’re tight on those, then maybe start on this one,” Nikki says, pointing to a song in his notebook. “Come closer to see.”

Tommy thinks that he might just pass out right now, as he scoots over a few more inches towards Nikki.

“See, this one. I think I got a killer riff for it. These verses and the chorus are fast and electrifying, then it slows down here at the bridge. ‘ _ Come on baby, gotta play with me, well, I’m your live wire. You better lock your doors, I’m on the prowl tonight, well be mine tonight’…” _ Nikki sings. “You like that?” he asks, looking at Tommy, just about 2 inches away from his face. 

Tommy just nods, mesmerized. ‘ _ Be mine tonight’…  _ he repeats it in his head. They’re so close. Tommy feels heat pouring off of himself. The air on his arms and the back of his neck are standing tall. He hears thumping. It must be his heart coming out of his chest. He’s feeling drawn to Nikki, like he can’t stop himself….. 

When suddenly the front door flies open, doorknob slamming into the drywall. “Thanks for getting the door for me motherfuckers!” Mick screeches, holding his guitar in one hand and bottle of schnapps in the other.

\----------------

Once Mick arrived, also early, there was no sense delaying getting the drums inside. The three men took a few trips out to the van to bring the pieces in. Tommy assembled them rather quickly, as Mick set-up his things. Soon enough, they were ready to rock. They played through the songs as Nikki suggested, finally taking a break after a few hours.

“Mick, that cover band, Rockandi, is playing tonight at The Starwood. Do you want to go with us to check out that guitarist?” Nikki asks.

“I certainly do. I will give you my full [eh em] unbiased opinion about the motherfucker, and then I’ll kindly be on my way.”

“Come on, Mick. Don’t take it personally, we should just explore all options first before definitely writing off a rhythm man,” Nikki says.

“I said that I would go. Team player, right here,” Mick replies, pointing to himself with his thumb.

“Hey, fuck the business reasons for going. It’s also my birthday! We should just go out and have fun!” Tommy adds in, with exuberance.

“I don’t do ‘fun’ that well, and how old are you today? 12?”

Tommy just cracks a smile. “Old enough to get arrested now for having  **FUN** !”

“Better not, drummer. Or Nikki and I might have to go out one night and find ourselves a new stickman while your ass is wasting away in the pokey,” Mick says, sliding back a generous amount of Schnapps. Mick hasn’t revealed his age to these kids yet. He’s pushing 30, and he’s been right where they are now - rowdy, stupid, unhinged, and without abandon. He’s learned. Paid a lot for his past mistakes. He knows these two will eventually learn the hard way. They appreciate his wisdom and expertise some day. But still, he likes them. He’ll never admit it. But he can see the drive in these two. Different from all rest that he’s played with. He’ll put up their annoying ways because he finally feels that he’s aligned with the right ones.

“Um, don’t poke fun, Mick. But I gotta be home by 6 for a family celebration for my birthday. I already told my mom that I’m going out tonight, so I can be back here no later than 8 so that we can go together. I can drive, Nikki,” Tommy says, looking at him. “And um, Mick do you want to take a ride in the love van with us, or follow?” Tommy is crossing his fingers behind his back that Mick will follow them. Please….. He figured the term  _ love van _ would turn him off.

“What the fuck is a love van?” Mick snarls.

“Dude, if you saw the back of my van, you’d know,” Tommy cackles.

“And where, exactly, does the 3rd person sit in the love van? I’m not putting my ass on any dirty, semen crusted mattress or pillows in the back.”

“I got a bench seat in the front. We can all fit,” Tommy says.  _ Please say no, please say no, please say no.  _ “You can tuck in snuggly right between me and Nikki.” Tommy throws that in as another deterrent.

“Fuck that shit. I’ll drive myself. It’s on the way back to my place anyway. Doesn’t make sense to come back here. Besides, I might want to leave sooner than you two morons.”

“Oh, that makes sense. So, I’ll just get back here as soon as I can after dinner then, and we can go, Mick following.”

“You still live with your parents? Did you get mommy’s permission to go out?” Mick questions.

“I’ve been on my own before. I just ran out of options for places to live. And I pay them rent to live there,” Tommy snaps, defending himself.

“Chill, kid. It’s best if it keeps you out of trouble”

“Enough, you two. Tommy, can’t you see he’s just trying to rile you up. He’s sadistic, and you take the bait.”

“Maybe you’re not a moron after all. You’re not supposed to figure that out until we’re years in. This is how I have my fun, and you just went and ruined it….. asshole,” Mick replies.

“OK. Tom, pretend you didn’t hear that. Let Mick have his fun at our expense, if that’s what keeps this old man ticking.”

“Go fuck yourself, Sixx.”

“Already did this morning. Come on, let’s get back to work while we still have time.”

Tommy turns around, biting his lip to keep from laughing, and because he’s blushing. 

\----------------------------

Tommy leaves at 5:30. His mom made him his favorite chicken dinner, and chocolate cake for dessert. His sister got him a pair of drumsticks, and his parents gave him a choice to skip rent this month or take a week off from chores. 

“Where are you going tonight, Tom?” mom asks.

“The Starwood. To check out a potential guitarist. Uh, I might not be home tonight. I figured that I just let you know now.”

“Where are you going to be?” his dad asks.

“My new band mate’s apartment. We’ve been making a lot of progress.”

“Drinking?” dad asks.

“You know I do, and it’s better when I stay somewhere, instead of driving home.”

“Should have followed in my military footsteps, son. You’d be much better off.”

“You’d rather me risk being killed in some Cold War coup?”

“You learn to protect yourself.”

“I protect myself here by not driving home drunk,” Tommy snarls.

“Dear, stop. It’s his birthday. Where does your friend live, Tom?” he mom asks, as his dad huffs.

“East L.A. I’m good, mom. We’re just making music. This new band is going to be something else. We got a really snarly lead guitarist, who looks like Cousin Itt. And the bassist and I have become good friends. We have so much in common. We just need a singer…. And maybe a second guitarist. I can’t wait to show you what we’re doing.”

“You’re very talented. Just don’t sell yourself short.”

“I’m not, and I have to get going to make the show in time. Thanks for everything.”

Tommy lays down his $20 before he leaves, and opts for the no-chores. It means either sleeping in or more time with Nikki and the band. Then he heads out the door, after touching up his appearance.

\-----------------------------

Tommy goes bounding up the steps to Nikki’s apartment and lets himself in without knocking, causing Mick to jump.

“I swear, twit, I’m going to rip your legs off next time you come bounding in somewhere with no warning. You’re supposed to fucking knock!”

“I did! I nearly knocked you off your feet,” Tommy snickers.

“There you go, Tommy. Learn to give it back to him. Were going to have a beautiful relationship with one another,” Nikki beams. “Come on, pack it in, Mick. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Mick takes his guitar and heads out his car. Nikki goes with Tommy in the van, and they’re on their way.

“How was dinner?” Nikki asks.

“Good. My mom is a great cook. My birthday gift is no chores for a week,” Tommy shrugs.

“Good. More time for practice.”

“What did you and Mick do?”

“We made love the whole time.”

“What?!” Tommy says, swerving the van.

“We made love to our instruments,” Nikki snickers. “Fucking got a killer riff for Live Wire nailed down. I had an idea, and he pulled out all the stops on it. He’s a fucking prick, but he’s so damn talented. I nearly have an orgasm over some of this shit that he’s coming up with.”

Tommy keeps note that Nikki keeps making references to sexual acts. Does he always have sex on his mind, or is he dropping hints? “That’s cool, Nikki. He’s been coming down on me a lot though. Do you think that I’m juvenile?”

“First, I can see right through him. It’s an act. I caught smiling at one of his jokes. I think that he actually likes us. And no, you’re not juvenile. You’re high energy and like to tell jokes. Your talent and drive is very mature. And your appearance.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You look older than you are. You’re taller than me too.”

“Thanks, I guess. How about Tall Tommy for my stage name?”

“So lame.”

“Joking. I’ll figure it out. I don’t mind Tommy Bass,” Tommy says, narrowing his eyes, like he’s trying to concentrate on the road. “Uh, so Sixx, your name used to be Frank?”

“Yep. Frank Feranna, named after my dad. Couple middle names thrown in there too.”

“You said he left. Did you ever see him again?”

“He came by once when I was around six. He brought me a sled. That was it. Then I tried to reach out by phone when I made it here to L.A. He basically told me to never contact him again. Sucked. It was right at that moment I decided to change my name. Eventually settled on Nikki Sixx. Kind of pinched it from someone. Changed the spelling a bit. I used it for a while before actually going through the court for a legal name change, which I actually just did recently.”

“That’s raw man.”

“Yeah. I got some dark shit in my past. My dad is just one of them.”

“I know it’s not the same, and I’m not trying to compare, or one-up you. I’m not even close. But dad just harps so much on my lifestyle and job choices. It’s like he’s not proud of me at all. Rather see me die at the hands of the communists by joining the military. At least he’d be proud, but I’d be dead. He was going at me tonight; while we’re eating cake for my birthday….. I don’t even know why I just mentioned that. I guess I just needed to vent. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. You can vent to me anytime. I should probably apologize. I’ve been kind of poking fun at your hokey suburban upbringing. I know it hasn’t been perfect for you. It’s really something that I don’t even know about. I get these visuals in my head sometimes what it would have been like to be brought up that way. I have a feeling I would have clashed with my parents anyway. As a matter of fact, that record label uncle that I told you about. When I first came to live here, I stayed with him and my aunt and my cousins in their model suburban house. I didn’t do so well. Got myself kicked out,” Nikki says, a snide smile creeping on his face. “That was some hard shit to adapt to. Too many fucking lame rules.”

“Really? Did you have to come in for dinner?”

“Sure did. I was freaking them the fuck out with my dyed hair, stiletto boots, make-up and tight pants. Freaked the entire neighborhood out. They wanted me gone. Not just my look, but I had a bad attitude to go along with it.”

“Guess I got attitude sometimes too,” Tommy shrugs.

“Yeah, and I like it. Don’t change.”

“We’re worlds apart, but in many ways, more alike than you know.”

\------------------------------

“Here we are. Let’s go find where Mick parked,” Tommy says, hopping out of his van seat, and lighting up. “Funny, I was just here last night, playing.”

“Maybe I can make it to your next show; now that I’m finished with London.” Nikki feels a pang saying that. “Hey…. there he is,” Nikki says, motioning down the sidewalk towards Mick.

“Hey guys. Let’s go in and check this bastard out,” Mick says.

It’s only about 8:40, the band isn’t even on for another 30 minutes. Nikki and Mick get drinks at the bar. Nikki brings one to Tommy. They sit down.

“Look at all these fucking chicks here,” Mick marvels.

“Yeah, like an abnormal amount,” Tommy says.

“Is this like the Osmond Brothers or something. Like a bunch of fucking cutie pies or some cheesy shit like that? These are like chicks from the burbs, not like rocker chicks,” Nikki says.

“Come on guys. Let’s go. I already know that this guitarist is not for us. He’s probably wearing slacks and has his shirt tucked in. Bet they bop their heads in unison. Waste of a $2 cover.”

“Relax, man. We’re here. We paid. Let’s just see,” Tommy says.

“Whatever, drummer. I’m enjoying my drink anyway,” Mick says, sipping it like some uppity cosmopolitan person, with his pinky sticking out.

“Fuck. We look like the death squad in here. Lot of fucking pastels and Benetton floating around,” Tommy observes. “I wonder if my sister is here. Fuck.”

“It was your ear on the street that led us here, Tom,” Nikki reminds him.

“I know. I actually heard about this guy from my sister’s friend,” Tommy snickers.

Mick just shakes his head. “Waste. Maybe the two of you can at least score a chick before you leave. I think that I’d go to jail if I tried anything here.”

“OK, Mick. You made your point,” Tommy says, rolling his eyes.

“C’mon. Let’s go do a line in the bathroom.” Nikki suggests, patting his pocket.

The trio hit the men’s room, and come out a few minutes later feeling revved. They hear music blasting as they emerge.

“Shit! They’re on, let’s go.”

Tommy and Nikki scan the band for the rhythm guitarist, and set their eyes and ears on him. 

“Actually, they’re not a fru-fru as I thought they would be. But still. I don’t know. He’s not striking me as a good fit,” Nikki says.

“I’m with you on that summation, Sixx,” Tommy replies.

“Hey! Are you two fools?!”

They both give Mick a confused look, waiting for him to clarify.

“Fuck the guitarist, look at the fucking singer. That’s the motherfucker that we need.”

Nikki and Tommy turn their attention to the open-shirted blonde screecher with cut abs.

“Look at his stage presence. The girls are freaking the fuck out!”

Tommy squints, trying to zero in the singer’s face, among the shadows between the stage lights.

“Fuck me! Guys! I know him. We went to school together. Holy shit! I can’t believe it, that’s my friend Vince! We used to hang out. He always had the chicks trailing after him,” Tommy reveals.

“Well, fucking get the prick in the band,” Mick demands.

“Alright man. After the show.”

“Mick’s right, Tom. His blonde hair as the frontman, against our black. It’s perfect. And I can fucking work with that voice. It’s got some grit. Just needs a little refining,” Nikki says. “Come on, let’s sit now. Catch him on the set break, Tom, if they do one. I don’t mind watching our future singer for a few songs, but I’m not really in the mood for a whole night of shitty covers.”

\-------------------------

Thankfully for the trio, Rockandi does take a set break. Tommy sees a swarm of girls buzzing around Vince. He’s not sure how he’s going to get the singer’s attention. Why would he leave this flock of girls to talk to an old school friend? Plus he can see on Vince’s face how much he’s enjoying the attention.

“Hey ladies!” Tommy yells into the gathering with a wink and nod.

A few of the girls turn around to eyeball Tommy. Most turn their attention back to Vince, but 2 recognize him. 

“Oh my god. Aren’t you like in a band, Sweet 16 or something like that? One girl says, running her fingers along Tommy’s arm. 

“Yeah, totally Becky. I was just here last night with my brother. They played. This one is a cutie, isn’t he.”

Vince stares at the interloper trying to take a look at this asswipe who’s stealing his fans. As he glares, Tommy catches his eye.

“Hey, Vinnie.”

A grin suddenly spreads across Vince’s face. “Holy shit! Tommy Bass!” He takes a few steps towards the drummer, through the cloud of Love’s Baby Soft and Jordache jeans.

“What the hell you doing here?” Vince yells, throwing his hand up for a high-five style handshake.

“I’m in a new band. We’re looking for a singer,” Tommy says, grabbing Vince by the arm to try to pull him away from the girls.

“Cool man.”

“Vin. Thinking about getting you. What do you think?”

“What?” Vince says, scrunching his face. “I got this band, man.”

“Fuck this, Vinnie. Seriously, this new band is going to be something like you’ve never seen. It’s originals. Fuck this cover shit.”

“Tom, I can’t get any better than this right now. Look at these fucking girls. Every fucking night, man, I get laid.”

“C’mon. Think about it. You gonna fucking stay here and sing covers for the rest of your life at the Starwood, fucking teenage chicks in the shithole bathroom? Before you know it, you’re going to be too old, and risk getting arrested for that shit. At least check us out. We’re going to the top. I’m telling you. Someday you’ll regret turning me down. I got Nikki Sixx writing songs and the most badass guitar player I’ve ever heard,” Tommy says, motioning towards his 2 band mates watching from afar.

“I know who Nikki is; from London. A drug addict and his pet quasimodo?” Vince says, eyeballing them. “What are you, his gimp? And what’s with the fucking hair? Chicks don’t dig that shit.”

“You’re wrong about the chicks. We all get ‘em. But, yeah, we got matching hair, you’ll stand out among us.”

“Don’t think so, Tom.”

“Will you at least just come to check us out? What’s that gonna hurt? C’mon, as a favor. Remember when you slept in my van? Still got that bitchin’ motherfucker on wheels. It’s here tonight.”

“Alright, dude. Guess it can’t hurt.”

“Cool, man. You’re gonna shit your pants when you see what we got. I promise this won’t be a waste of your time. When? Tomorrow? Next day?

“Tomorrow, I guess.”

“How about 1pm at Nikki’s. I’ll write down his address.”

“Alright, get it to me. I got less than 10 fucking minutes left, and I wanna at least make my fuck selections for the night before our 2nd set.”

Tommy smiles, and shakes his head at Vince’s ridiculousness. He goes over to the hostess station, finds a matchbook and a pen and writes Nikki’s address and phone number inside. He makes his way over towards Vince again, who’s back among the girls. He pushes into the crowd to hand the matchbook to Vince, who reaches to take it from Tommy. 

“Got it?! Put it in your pocket!”

“Got it, Tom!”

Tommy goes back to where Nikki and Mick are sitting. “Come on. Let’s leave. I’ll tell you outside. I’m gagging on teenie-bopper perfume in here.”

The trio leave and start to walk back towards their vehicles. Before Tommy and Nikki split apart from Mick, Tommy gathers them.

“Tomorrow 1pm. Please tell me you’re both free.”

“I am,” Nikki says.

“Me too,” Mick replies.

“Great. Um, he’s skeptical to say the least, so we gotta pull out all the stops and show him what we really got, or we’re going to lose him. He seems to be in love with this teenage fan club here.”

“I’m not worried. We blow this shit of the water,” Mick says.

“Fucking behave, Mick. I don’t know how well he takes a joke.”

“What?” Mick says, hand to his heart, like he’s never insulted a single soul.

“And no drugs tomorrow, Nikki.”

“What?” Nikki questions.

“He knows you do them.”

“And?”

“Well, just don’t. It might turn him off.”

“Oh give me a break. Did you see his fucking eyes? They were pinned as hell. That bastard is loading up on his own shit. A druggie knows a druggie.”

“Alright, whatever, Sixx. Just… [Tommy growls out of frustration]…. Just don’t. OK?”

“Fine. No drugs,” Nikki smirks.

“I know. I’m nitpicking, but it took a lot of convincing. I’m even a little worried that he won’t show. We just need to impress, OK? Once he’s in, then we go back to our sloppy drugs, drinking, and insults.”

“Later, then,” Mick says, saluting them goodbye.

Tommy and Nikki walk to the van and get in.

“Are you upset with me?” Tommy asks, as he starts the van.

“No. Why would I be?”

“I just didn’t know if you liked me telling you what to do or what not to do.”

“I don’t give a shit. I get it. The punk is freaked by us. We’ll tone it down. Besides, I wouldn’t mind you directing me what to do, sometimes,” Nikki says, with a sly smile.

“Um, OK. Uh, well. I guess we’ll go back to your place. Um, maybe if you're not tired, we can chill with a beer.” Tommy thinks he sounds really stupid right about now.

“Told you already. We’re going to celebrate your birthday. I got cake.”

“Good, because I’m hungry again.”

\-----------------------

The pair arrive back at Nikki’s place.

“Sit, Tommy,” Nikki says, motioning to the couch with his hand. “If you want some music, you can put a cassette in my tape deck, or tune the clock radio. It’s already set on KLOS.” Nikki ducks into the kitchen.

Tommy is too nervous to focus on selecting a cassette. He flips the radio on. Some song he doesn’t know starts blaring out.

“Vince’s Bowie cover wasn’t bad. Don’t you think?” Tommy says, making small talk out of nerves.

“Not bad. I wanna hear his voice on our songs though…. Fuck!!”

“Everything OK?” Tommy asks, turning around.

“I’m fine.…. Fuck, fuck, fuck!!”

Tommy hears a heavy stream of running water from the sink. “OK,” Tommy says skeptically, smelling smoke. He can only wonder.

About 10 seconds later, Nikki is coming at Tommy with 2 Hostess Chocolate Cupcakes on a plate with lit match sticks stuck in them. 

“Happy birthday to you!” Nikki, says, setting the flaming cupcakes down in front of Tommy.

“You really pulled out all the stops. You shouldn’t have,” Tommy laughs.

“Make a wish and blow that fucking shit out before the cupcakes burst into flames. I nearly lit my groin on fire when I dropped a match.”

Tommy adjusts his eyes to Nikki’s groin standing before him. He sees a scorch mark and evidence of water on the leather. That humors him. He makes a wish, then blows the match out. The other burned out already.

“Gee, thanks Nikki. It’s chocolate, like devil’s food.”

“Dude, it says devil’s food on the fucking package. And if you haven’t realized by now, I’m fucking broke,” Nikki laughs. “The cheapest cake I found was $6. These motherfuckers were 49 cents. Win-win in my book.”

Tommy fishes the matchstick out of one of the cupcakes, and picks it up and takes a bite. It’s perfect Nikki. I love these. The fucking cream filling is the best,” Tommy says, with a mouthful of cake holding it up towards Nikki to reveal the cream filling that’s been exposed.

“Nikki snatches from him. What are you going to do if I eat your cream filling?” Nikki asks with a smirk.

“I’m going to kick for fucking ass for upsetting the birthday boy,” Tommy replies.

“Or you can come and get it,” Nikki says, digging his tongue into the cream center.

Tommy heart leaps into his throat. It’s pounding. Is Nikki Sixx inviting him to swap cream, mouth to mouth? And before he can pull out a rational answer from his brain, he’s on his feet, pushing Nikki fast up against the wall, and connecting his empty mouth with the cream-filled one. Nikki accepts, waiting for this moment himself.

The sweet filling melts quickly during the heated kiss. Tommy has his hands on Nikki’s hips, one hipping down far enough to graze his ass. Nikki has one hand on the back of the drummer’s neck, nestled in his hair, and on his shoulder. As seconds tick by, what started off as an aggressive kiss has softened into purposeful movements and study of the other. Tommy pulls away, his chest is heaving.

“Is the birthday boy still upset, and are you still going to kick my ass?” Nikki asks, licking his lips.

“I’m not sure yet.”

“It’s your birthday. You do what you want,” Nikki says, a crooked smirk spreading cross his jaw.

Tommy is challenged by this proposal. He wants to do everything, yet he’s not sure he should. He’s also panicked about making the next move. Think Tom, think quick.

“Well, Sixx, I’m the type who likes surprises,” Tommy pants out. There… the ball is back in Nikki’s court. What he’s not aware of, is that Nikki is also freaked. He wants more too, but he’s also not sure that they should. And for fuck’s sake, this kid has only been 18 for a few hours. Is this too much for him?

Nikki feels Tommy mindlessly rubbing circles on his hip with one of his thumbs. That’s definitely an indication for something, isn’t it?

“OK. Multiple choice. A. You can eat your other cupcake. B. We go to my bedroom and examine whether I got burned through my pants. I’m gonna have to check on that soon anyway,” Nikki says, swallowing hard.

“Well, I am hungry, but I’m quite concerned about your health. That should come, I think.”

Nikki grins wide, and takes Tommy’s hand, as he leads him to the bedroom.

**END**

  
  



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